


Five Stages of Kate

by Deejaymil



Category: NCIS
Genre: An Experiment in Tenses, Angst, Character Death, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post Twilight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deejaymil/pseuds/Deejaymil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's washed the blood from his face, but he can still see it glistening there and spelling out, 'FAILURE' in burning red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Stages of Kate

**Author's Note:**

> Tony DiNozzo falls apart. Stumbling into his apartment, he crumples onto his couch and drops his head into his hands. Normally immaculate in his attire, his expensive suit is uncharacteristically soiled with sweat and splattered with dark stains across the collar. The sleeves of his suit jacket bunch at the ends, scrunched into slick palms all afternoon as he’d struggled to hold himself together.

He’ll give every tailored outfit in his wardrobe, every expensive item in his pricey apartment, everything he owns for this day to have never happened. His home has never seemed like more of a sham. If it has any hope of reflecting the man he is at this moment, then everything in the room should be shattered, useless, cold.

Even with all his expensive trinkets, he still can’t be a man capable of saving his partner.

His mind betrays his blank expression. Thoughts flicker race about with no meaning or order. Memories long forgotten resurface. He can’t remember the drive home, the walk to his apartment, unlocking his door. His mind is a broken record, replaying endlessly the countless moments long since passed, memories that are now his only solace. But if he can hold his mind together a little longer, stop it from shattering apart into madness, he can wake up from this nightmare. It can’t be real, not after everything they’ve been through together.

His breath hitches in his throat. A sharp bubble of pain in his chest swells and pulses, choking him and sets his heart to thumping sporadically. Memories. The first time they’d met and knowing straight away she was someone special.

_"I heard you quit, Agent Todd."_

_"Happy news gets around fast. Yes, I resigned. It was the right thing to do. "_

_"Yep. Pull that crap at NCIS, I won't give you a chance to resign."_

_"Is that a job offer?"_

The way she’d smiled, especially when she’d thought no one was watching.

_"I think she saw me. She gave me that look."_

_"What look?"_

_"The look she's always giving you."_

Her laugh, even when mocking him. The constant teasing, the bickering, the fights.

_"Y'know, you realize what would happen if I dropped this knife, Tony?"_

The knowledge that no matter what, she was his partner and she'd always have his six. Her eyes when she’d thought he was dying. How she’d stayed with him, lied to him, even though she could have been infected. The relief when she’d known he was gonna be okay.

_"Damnit, Tony. I should just take you home and get you into bed."_

He wonders what it would have been like to kiss her, just once. To hear her say, "I love you." To hold her in his arms and listen to her heartbeat. The bubble expands with that and he closes his eyes, mouth twisting wordlessly, every thought too painful to comprehend.

_"Me and Kate? Never happen."_

_"Why not?"_

_"She's too smart for that."_

She’d used to tease him about his womanising, but he’d gladly never touch a woman again for the possibility of holding her once in his arms.

_"She didn't look so bad to me."_

_"It's not that. She's just not my type."_

_"Really? Female, hard body who likes to take her clothes off is not your type?"_

The way she _(Kate!)_ looked as _(I just got shot at point blank range DiNozzo, what do you think?)_ she died, _(protection detail's over, Kate)_ the ghost of a smile still lingering on her face _(wow, I thought I'd die before I ever heard a comp—)_ , and all at once, he’s wrenched back to the present and the feel of her blood on his face again, burning him. He leaps up and races for the bathroom, gagging on the bile that’s trying to choke him. He staggers, still caught up in the past. He won’t ever feel her heart beat against his palm, because her heart isn’t beating anymore. She’ll never smile again, never laugh, never—

Ripping open the cupboard _(thought I'd die)_ and grabbing at every soap and cleanser he can _(I just got shot),_ knowing that it will take more _(point blank rage)_ then just scrubbing to remove her blood _(over Kate)_ from his skin. But he tries, until his face is raw and bleeding, the sponge slipping from numb hands, and water dripping from his face. The blood is a part of him now, an indelible tattoo that glistens on his skin and spells out ‘FAILURE’ in a burning red. He gazes into the mirror, trying to recognize the Tony he knows in place of the empty, trembling shell that stares back.

He wonders if it’s only water.

He wonders if the pain in his chest will kill him. He treasures the notion.

_"DiNozzo men don't cry."_

He decides that he doesn't care either way, she’s worth the tears. He closes his eyes and tries to picture her face. He can't concentrate, what colour were her eyes? It seems suddenly important, more important than anything, that he remember this. He can’t let her slip away, because if she’s gone, there’s nothing holding him here anymore. He knows that it should have been him. He should have been the one who took the bullet, for Gibbs, but ultimately for Kate. It should have been his blood staining that roof. Should be him lying on Ducky's autopsy table, cold and forever unmoving.

_"We’re NCIS agents; there’s a chance one of us dies every time we walk out that door."_

The bubble bursts in his chest, releasing a torrent of raw, furious anger that floods him. He drives his fist into the mirror with a snarl, shattering it. Anger, that he can't even recall one simple thing. Anger, because DiNozzos shouldn't feel this way, dammit! Anger, because she’s dead. Because she can't have died. Not then, not that way, not ever.

But the anger is gone as quickly as it comes, leaving him dazed and numb, the blood no longer in his mind, but real and sticky and oozing from countless cuts. His energy spent he folds his knees and falls to the ground, his back against the bath. He vows, next time it will be him. He won’t never watch another partner die. Sitting there, head bowed, blood trickling from sliced hands, he desperately pleads to a God he doesn’t believe in, not again. Never again.

He faces the truth.

Kate is gone. And she's taken a part of him with her, a part of all of them. It feels as though she's reached in and physically ripped a hole in his chest, exposing him for the entire world to see. The future is ahead of him, but it’s empty, devoid of her. He’s hurt, broken into a million pieces. He curls onto the bathroom floor, numb and knowing that soon someone will come looking for him. Maybe Abby, most likely Gibbs, they’ll grieve and heal together. Eventually. And he’ll hold his family close because now he knows exactly what it feels like to lose one of them.

And when he finally sleeps _(Kate?)_ , he dreams _(you look like crap, DiNozzo)._ And slowly _(I missed you too),_ he heals.

**Author's Note:**

> **Edited August, 2017.**


End file.
